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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887892">The Kiss of Death</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SucculentStrawberries/pseuds/MonokumaCuddles'>MonokumaCuddles (SucculentStrawberries)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Naejunko Bad End THH AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Bad Ending, Confused Naegi Makoto, Crying, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Despair Era (Dangan Ronpa), Dubcon Cuddling, Dubcon Kissing, Enemy Lovers, Enoshima Junko Being Enoshima Junko, Everyone is Dead, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hostage Situations, Huddling For Warmth, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Mental Instability, Minor Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto, Minor Maizono Sayaka/Naegi Makoto, Non-Canonical Character Death, Non-Sexual Intimacy, One Shot, Post-Canon, Rival Relationship, Spoilers, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts, Tragedy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:41:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SucculentStrawberries/pseuds/MonokumaCuddles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of The Killing Game, two are left in a standoff. The epitomes of Hope and Despair, struggling to coexist on common ground, despite not having anything in common at all.</p>
<p>However, in the middle of the morgue, the cold lips of Death are indiscriminate...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Enoshima Junko/Ikusaba Mukuro, Enoshima Junko/Naegi Makoto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Naejunko Bad End THH AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878583</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Kiss of Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, I'm here to water the thirsty Naejunko crops with a humble oneshot offering c': I love this ship so much but there's not a ton out there, so I have to make content myself!</p>
<p>I've had the idea for this AU in mind for a while and actually have several snapshot pieces for it that I'm working on! The actual start is going to be explained in another fic oneshot, but the gist you need to know for this is: Junko pulled a fast one during the start of the final trial that resulted in everyone but Naegi being killed, because doing the same tired trial shtick was BORING and we all knew he'd win anyway. Better to crush his spirit by pulling the rug out from under him and discarding her whole reality show entirely at the last minute. The school is still locked with no escape unless she decides to let him out, so he's pretty much stuck living with her until one of them can convert the other. Congrats Naegi. Your only choice was to live there forever all along :)</p>
<p>NOTE: If you want to see future/past oneshots related to this, please subscribe to the Series, not this fic itself! I will not be adding more chapters to this, but posting related work in this AU timeline as separate fics in the series!</p>
<p>I hope you enjoy! ❤</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Aren't you cold? You've been in here for, like, three hours." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fine." Naegi's voice was so quiet that she barely heard it, although despite his shivering, his tone was as firm as the frozen corpses on the shelves around him. His stupid ratchet hoodie wasn't going to be enough to keep him from joining them if he stayed in the morgue for much longer. She'd been generous enough to give him free entry whenever he pleased, but if he thought he could just avoid her in here forever, all day every day, he was in for a rude awakening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a long sigh, she let the metal door slide shut behind her, striding over to join him. She chose to perch on the corner of one of the exam tables, kicking her legs idly and observing him. The bags under his eyes and his pale complexion weren't new, but the violet tint to his fingers was. It almost matched the hair of the girl he was stroking. The goddamn detective's shelf had been pulled open, and his gaze never left her closed eyelids. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That had been a small mercy she'd allowed when cleaning up the bodies for display. If it were up to her, those eyes would still be wide with despair and physical torment, a much more intriguing end than simply 'sleeping'. But despair had to come slowly, and he was already swimming in the thick of it… She could save mutilating the corpses for later, to reopen the wounds whenever he managed to adjust to the fact that they were truly dead and gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you want?" Naegi's voice wasn't sharp, but it wasn't the usual fuzziness he used to carry either. He hadn't talked all soft in the couple of weeks since the game ended. No friendship lectures, no innocent queries, no naive disbelief of what she was capable of... There wasn't despair, not yet, his hope was still too strong for that. But there was a certain, </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious</span>
  </em>
  <span> hint of resignation to his fate, and her general repulsive existence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She thought for a moment, putting a finger to her lip and staring up at the ceiling with wide, innocent eyes. "Nuffin' in pawticuwar..." she hummed cutely. He wasn't fazed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then why are you here?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I was just coming to check on you. No need to be so freakin' hostile! Am I not allowed to walk into a damn room without some ulterior motive?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't usually."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he said nothing after that, and it was less of a quip than an honest fact, so she decided not to cut his tongue out with the scalpel lying next to her. He shrugged and turned back to the corpse, and she shrugged from where she sat, letting him continue his boring little mourning process. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least, for another fifty-nine seconds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you miss the connection of another human being?" she mused to the back of his head. "A voice, a heartbeat…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stop. Please."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her freshly-plucked brows raised upwards.  "Stop what?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know what you're trying to do, Junko." he sighed, finally shifting in his seat to look into the eyes he'd been working so hard to avoid. "You should save your breath. There's nothing left for you to pull out right now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If this were any other time, she'd be more than ready to grin at him and take that as a challenge. Because he was totally wrong. She could pull more pain, physical or emotional (or </span>
  <em>
    <span>BOTH- fun!</span>
  </em>
  <span>), out of him with ease. Torment him in ways he couldn't dream up in his worst nightmares. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she wasn't trying to pull anything at the moment. God, did he think she spent literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>every second</span>
  </em>
  <span> planning despair? Even she needed a break once in a while, a little breather to keep the creative juices from drying up. Plotting pure evil 24/7 was just as boring as being a goody-two-shoes 24/7!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She could see the frosted tear-stains coating his cheeks, and the gross crusting snot rimming his nostrils. He'd been in here weeping like a baby, as usual. Probably over his lost love and best friend. Pathetic. Why was he such a sappy loser? Move on already. Seriously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Move on to a real, breathing person. Like her, the only person worthy of living! Until he finally grew the balls to kill her, anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You'd really rather spend your whole day in here with these frozen sacks of meat than me? The Ultimate Model </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mastermind? The Ruler of the Goddamn World?" Rolling her eyes, she hopped down to shove past him and the detective drawer, dragging her screeching nails along the metal handles as she walked. "What do you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> in here for so long? Are you making out with them? You fucking necropheliac…" she scoffed, yanking open a drawer. She hadn't come in here with a motive, but she sure had one now. Maybe she'd threaten to do something depraved to the popstar if he didn't come with her, that'd scare him out of here for a while! "Have you stuck your shrimpy little dick in Slutaka yet? Or should I warm her up for-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her snide laughter died in her throat quicker than the breath had died in the lungs of the body she was now staring at. The drawer that she had pulled open wasn't the popstar's after all. That shelf was one to the right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The name of the shelf she had pulled open, she couldn't actually read, on account of the sudden rush of heat flooding her vision. But she didn't have to read it. She barely had to register the form in front of her for the name to be pulled from her lips in a quivering whisper, as if she were a woman possessed. Maybe she </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> possessed, because Junko Enoshima would never struggle against a lump in her throat, or fight to breathe against her own nostrils. Unless she was being forcibly choked or sitting in a toxic gas chamber, of course. But she wasn't. She was standing in a pathetically normal, non-dangerous morgue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mukuro…</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon enough, she found herself acting just as Naegi had been, and it sickened her. She was the one gently stroking a frozen hand, or a messy haircut, and she was the one nearly doubled over crying and wailing like a toddler. Naegi had startled enough to flinch back momentarily, just as caught-off guard as she had been. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mukuro's heart was never going to beat again. Her vocal chords would never make obnoxious sounds again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mukuro Ikusaba, her sister in despair, was undeniably, irrevocably dead. And no amount of technology or genius she possessed would be enough to bring her back. If someone was teetering on the edge, perhaps, but… once they tipped over… Death was </span>
  <em>
    <span>the one thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> she couldn't control, couldn't reverse… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mukuro…" Her chest heaved as she collapsed to bury her face in the crook of an icy neck. "Why did you have to die?" she sobbed. "Why did you have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave me?!?</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> killed her!" Naegi spat out, although it was less of a remark than a question, sputtered in confusion at her display. She couldn't blame the poor guy. She was just as lost about this bizarre turn of events as he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shaking her head, both to try and find a semblance of clarity and to get her pigtails out of her face, she straightened up, leaning unsteadily against the shelves to stare at him. "Do you know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> I did?" She tried for a smile, and it threatened to fall off of her lips with the next voice crack and wave of tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because it would bring me more depair than almost anything else. Nobody else knew me the way that Mukuro did. Nobody else </span>
  <em>
    <span>understood</span>
  </em>
  <span> me the way she did. I'll never find a soldier as capable, or as loyal, or as goddamn </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span> as she was…" Her breath hitched, and she was forced to turn back around, caressing her sister's face. She'd never thought she would </span>
  <em>
    <span>cherish</span>
  </em>
  <span> the sight of those ugly freckles, but now, covered in frost against porcelain skin, nearly tinted blue, it was the most beautiful sight she could think of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was depressing. It was the most depressing sight she could think of, and she felt every ounce of energy in her body evaporate, every scrap of mental ability sucked away by the fog in her brain. Or maybe there were mushrooms growing out of her skull. Either way she was in a state of decay. She was just as cold as this room, and she shivered, wrapping her arms together over her chest, as if cradling herself would help. It didn't. It didn't ease the crushing darkness in her lungs, in her vision, and she stared forlornly at the floor</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You miss your sister, right?" she mumbled, voice falling into a monotone that so nearly resembled the soldier's. "You know what it's like…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You probably killed her..." he murmured back, and she was amused to hear a hint of snark mixed with his desolation. So amused that she couldn't help a cackle, springing back into her more energetic self.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You said </span>
  <em>
    <span>'probably,'</span>
  </em>
  <span> though, see?" she called, pointing at him. "You don't know for sure! That video I showed you when you first got here- her corpse wasn't in the shot with your parents, right? Now, yeah, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> be a trick, or that she's just lying somewhere out of frame, but still! You've still got that ugly little scrap of hope to cling to! The hope that she's alive somewhere, that you'll eventually be reunited!~ That someday, all of the days waiting and longing and suffering with worry and mourning for her will be worth it!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naegi didn't respond, but to be fair, she didn't exactly give him a chance to. Because the normal, invigorating high of being Junko Enoshima was bound to crash just as quickly as it rose, and she found her mood plummeting with the end of her sentence. Plummeting down, deeper and deeper, until she couldn't remember a single feeling or moment that wasn't despair. She wanted to die. Not the wanting to die that made her thrilled, or just plain horny, but flat out wanting to die for no other reason than she couldn't take another second on this miserable world. Not without her sister. What good was ruling the world if one of the only people you had ever loved, or came as close to loving as God could come to feel for a mortal, wasn't in it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I… I made sure I didn't have anything like that." she choked out. Every word felt like lead on her tongue. Every breath and hiccup burned. Her makeup was undoubtedly ruined by tearstains, </span>
  <em>
    <span>God,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she probably looked absolutely disgusting. "Her body's right here… anytime I find myself in disbelief, or if I forget, I can just walk in here, open up this drawer, and </span>
  <b>BLAM-O</b>
  <span>! There's my twin sister! Dead as a doorknob! Frozen solid with all those big gaping stabby holes!" A hysterical giggle shot out of her as she gestured to them. All the other bodies had been touched up at Naegi's request, but she'd been adamant about leaving this one exactly how they'd found it. Mutilated, and then mutilated a second time for the other case. Double-trouble, just as Mukuro deserved. "And she'll never get up and walk again! She'll never pick me up, never hold a dagger to my throat, never ask me some idiotic question or stare at my tits like a big drooling lesbo… She's </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Naegi… As gone as your little girlfriend is…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked like he was debating whether he had the energy to contest that statement. She refused to give him the chance, trying and failing to rub some of the tears and snot away with one trembling hand. "And I'm not tryin' to like, one-up your sob story or anything, but just remember… you only knew that bitch for a few years… I shared </span>
  <em>
    <span>my entire life</span>
  </em>
  <span> with this one…" A pause, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry harder. "Well… I guess I can't say 'entire' now, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm still here kickin'...</span>
  </em>
  <span>" she snapped, letting her tongue slither out as frustration took over. With a roundhouse kick, she sent Mukuro's drawer rocketing back to shut, the resounding bang bouncing from wall to wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had nothing left to say. She had nothing left to do, nothing to think. Without Mukuro she had </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and it seemed appropriate to sit and marinate in that hell for a while longer, until her hell brain would inevitably decide to send her careening into another batshit plan or personality shift. And so she collapsed to her knees on the spotless tile floor to sob silently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lack of sound in the room was interrupted by another drawer slowly shutting, but unexpectedly, the door to the rest of the school didn't open. It remained closed, and instead, Naegi's hand found the skin of her arm, hesitantly holding it. He didn't breathe a word, probably because he could hardly breathe this close to her in general, but that was fine. She had spent the last few trials wishing he'd shut up, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She still had words to breathe, however, shaky though they were. Words like: "Holy shit, you're even colder than she was! Come here..." She was swift to nudge his hand off of her bare skin and instead wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her face into the space between his neck hoodie fabric. With no real choice, he ended up slowly doing the same, gently entwining his hands into her pigtails for an extra scrap of protection from the chilly air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, huddled together with her crying into his shoulder, and him shivering against her. It was… nice, though. She could feel his dull heartbeat, his pulsepoint against her cheek. He would stiffen anytime she moved, any slightly louder sob or adjusting her grip on his back, but despite his apprehension, he never let go. Goddamn sentimental Naegi, such a sap that he was willing to stay and comfort the woman who'd killed everyone he'd ever loved… who probably would have considered killing herself, although as she glanced past him once, she noticed with a hint of a smile that he'd removed the scalpel from the table across the room. Not to kill her with, which was kind of lame, but to prevent her from ending their fun early, which she appreciated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know, I make fun of it a lot, but I think you're right about one thing. We really do need it…" she murmured, hugging him a little tighter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Need what?" He was apprehensive, she'd expected that. It wasn't often she said he was right about something, because she was never wrong. But she could throw a bone to her little puppy once in a while.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Connections to other people. Sometimes they're nice to have as more than a tool or a means to an end… Voices, memories, </span>
  <em>
    <span>warmth…</span>
  </em>
  <span>" she sighed, cupping his head in her hands so she could look him in the face. "We need those. It's what makes life worth living, and what makes dying hurt so insufferably… Connections to other people are both hope and despair, life and death, all rolled together… Don't you think that's </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Naegi?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart was pounding, heat rushing with fresh blood through every inch of her weary body. It was invigorating, as she pulled him close and shoved her lips against his, drinking in every inch of him, every breath. He hadn't even had a chance to let out a scream to muffle before he was pressing back against her, closing the distance and his lithe frame shivering against hers every time she threatened to slip away. Whether he actually wanted to kiss her, or was simply trying to stave off his inevitable death in the cold if they didn't leave soon, blue fingers struggling to get a grip on her neck and his fogging breath filling the air near her, she didn't know. She didn't particularly care, because either way he was here, buried in her embrace and unable to part for even a second, and that was all she wanted at the moment. Today, her goal wasn't her continued domination of the world, or bringing despair to millions, or making an army of Junkos. It was solely to forge a connection, a tether, to her mortal enemy and greatest love, Naegi…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn't let him get off easily though, so before he actually did succumb to the cold of the freezer, she forced him away and dragged him upright, smirking. "So, how was it? Did I give those two a run for their money?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naegi's voice was as numb as his body, but he did find the energy to glare at her with his deadpan, fumbling uselessly to try and wipe at his mouth. His arm was so asleep he couldn't manage it. "I think I'd still prefer the dead body."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You fucking necrophiliac…" Rolling her eyes, she gave him a good-natured slap across the cheek, listening to the shrill yelp before she began dragging him along. "Now let's get out of here and head to the cafeteria. I'll fix something to warm us up. You like hot chocolate?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you going to make me stick my hand in the boiling pot?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We'll see how you play your cards.~"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I miss the bear."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hell, maybe he'll come back, I dunno. Maybe I'll write up a nice script for a sequel!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they made their way towards the cafeteria, him fumbling along on shivering legs, she noticed he was still staring at her whenever she pretended not to be paying attention. His brows were furrowed, his gaze a mix of deep concentration and puzzlement. He was still trying to discern her motives, not for what traps may lie ahead, but what had just happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She chuckled under her breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn't been faking that scene earlier, hadn't planned it from the start, although it probably looked that way. That her whole sob story over Mukuro was just a scheme to gain his sympathies, to commiserate and gain an opening to kiss him before dragging him out. To taunt him with the idea that his cruel, sadistic enemy could be just as vulnerable as he was, that she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>capable</span>
  </em>
  <span> of caring for at least one person, that she could be saddened and hurt by loss too. That she could feel warmth and happiness, for at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>brief moment before she grew bored and had to change her emotional state again…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What a horrible plot, a devastating trick on an already fragile soul, to give him hope that she could maybe be reached through to, could maybe be changed, only to drag him off to whatever hell awaits in the next room, the next moment, the next breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To toy with his heart and maybe make him fall in love, or at least as close to love as he could feel for the only living human near him in this wretched world...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it wasn't planned at all. She had meant all of it, the pain and the crying and the hugging and the vague threats… Every sentence uttered, every action taken, no matter how at odds with each other they seemed, were true facets of the bloody diamond that was Junko Enoshima. With the exception of just a couple of schemes, she rarely faked anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would learn to understand that in time… however long it would take. After all, they had all the time in the world to spend here. In this safe haven, in this nightmarish hell pit… no matter which it was at any given time, they would at least be here together...</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>NOTE: If you want to see future/past oneshots related to this, please subscribe to the Series, not this fic itself! I will not be adding more chapters to this, but posting related work in this AU timeline as separate fics in the series!</p>
<p>Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a kudos or comment (anon is also fine), I love hearing from you all! ❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
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